Tattoo it to My Soul

Obligations and To-Do's carve away at this time reserved to write.

I miss this place where words thread meaning into my days, where readers validate the upheaval of stories onto the page.

Olive turned nine-years-old on Tuesday.

How can that be?

Nine?

I left for work at the prison before she woke up and made the mistake of uttering these words to three incarcerated men: "It was her first birthday that I didn't get to see..."

I paused and looked at the guys who colored Christmas cards with me in Classroom 77.

"Oh I should just shut the fuck up."

There's nothing like working in a prison to give someone perspective.

(Which I've needed lately, as I limp into this Holiday season, feeling more overwhelmed than joyous.)

One of the men who sat next to me left behind two young children and hasn't celebrated a birthday with either of them in ten years. He colored two identical Christmas trees to send to his pre-teen boys. Another one hasn't had contact with his four kids for over three years. They stopped getting his letters so he stopped sending them. He colored a picture to hang in his cell.

I've only missed one birthday morning.

I missed my daughter waking up on her 9th birthday. But I picked her up from Boys and Girls Club by 5:00 pm and we met Nick, Elias, and Cuzuncle David for dinner at the High-liner.

How lucky am I?

Olive ordered an adult cheeseburger for the first time, instead of a meal from the kids menu.

She ate the whole thing.

Did I mention she turned nine?

My kids just keep getting bigger, and the days keep getting shorter. I drag my feet, but time ticks ahead, with or without me, as I struggle to hold onto the train that speeds down life's track.

Last night, Olive crept down the stairs as I lay on the edge of sleep. "Mom, can I snuggle with you?"

Without hesitation, I pulled up the covers and motioned for her to fold her body into mine.

I no longer pine for her to outgrow our bed, but instead want to draw her nine-year-old silhouette alongside mine and tattoo it to my soul--so I never forget to appreciate the intimacy we are so lucky to share.

Happy birthday to my kind brave no-longer-baby-but-always-my-baby girl!

Comments

[DiVaughn]

Oh my gosh. Nine!

Then again, my baby will be 18 in a couple of weeks. Sigh.

[Cristin]

Beautiful and heart-breaking. Thanks for sharing.

[Anna]

Happy birthday to Olive. She looks like a marvellous person, and happy too. All the best to your whole family!

[Becka Honardar]

I remember praying for you when you were preparing for Olive’s birth- time really does fly by! Wishing you guys a wonderful holiday season, your words always bring me joy, and I am sure you do the same for the men you work with

[Valerie Demming]

Always snuggle when she asks. Your body will remember when you can no longer do it in person.

[Kate]

Happy Birthday Olive!!! Christy, hope you get some wonderful restorative time with your family over the holidays.

[Christy]

Thanks all for the wonderful messages and for being part of our journey!